Deus Necros

His voice carried genuine disbelief, as if he still couldn’t accept that being famous was worse than being hunted. The chamber’s cold air did nothing to cool his temper.

“I already have something for that. Give me your communication crystal,” Silva said.

Silva’s tone was practical, like he’d been expecting this request for a long time. His hand lifted, palm open, waiting without impatience.

Ludwig didn’t hesitate in pulling the crystal, and once it was in Silva’s hands, magic began.

The crystal glinted under the chamber’s light as Silva worked. Tiny lines of magic formed and settled, neat and precise, the kind of craftsmanship that made the act look easy when it clearly wasn’t.

“This will now allow you to teleport immediately to the tower. I linked it with your Master’s main study.”

Ludwig felt the faint warmth of the altered crystal when it returned to his palm, like it now remembered a destination.

“Thanks,” Ludwig said as he added some mana to the crystal.

He fed it power without ceremony, like a man lighting a fuse. The runes on the crystal responded immediately, shimmering, turning the air around it thin.

“You remind me a lot of him,” Silva said.

The comment landed unexpectedly. Ludwig’s fingers paused a fraction, the crystal still glowing softly.

“Who?” Ludwig tilted his head.

His suspicion returned out of habit. Compliments from old men were rarely simple.

“Your master, when he first started working here… it was the same, this very scene,” Silva smiled.

There was nostalgia in Silva’s expression, as if he’d watched this pattern repeat with different faces across decades. The smile suggested amusement at the Academy’s predictability more than anything else.

“No wonder he turned bitter and cold, I’d be annoyed too if I woke up to this every day,” Ludwig sighed as the crystal shimmered once and teleported him away.

His last look toward the crowd was half apology, half resentment, and then the world folded.

****

“Finally, some silence!” Ludwig sighed as he closed his eyes. He finally made it to his master’s study room at the top of the black tower.

The air here smelled of old parchment, dust, and the sharp tang of preservatives. The study’s light was dimmer, filtered by high windows, and the shadows between shelves felt thick enough to hide secrets.

The jars lined along one side caught that muted light in ugly little glints: cloudy fluids, pale shapes within, things that might have been fingers or organs or something less identifiable. To Ludwig, it was comforting. Not because it was pleasant, but because it was quiet, and quiet was worth any amount of grotesque decor.

This sight, to Ludwig no matter how dreary was far better than the harassment he was receiving earlier.

Here, at least, nothing smiled at him with expectation. Nothing asked for his time as if it belonged to them.

It was worrisome what happened to him. Especially now, after all, Ludwig shouldn’t be feeling these emotions. Maybe a bit of anger was normal, after all he had the Heart of Wrath. But this was a whole mix of a lot of emotions. An Undead shouldn’t feel this much. This is too… human for him.

And it was probably all because he obtained the Eyes of Envy. It wasn’t the reason, but merely fuel to the fire…

He began thinking that the more Usurpers he took down. The more these feelings will amplify….

“You’re back already.” A womanly voice echoed behind him.

The voice slipped in smooth as a knife. Ludwig’s relief lasted exactly long enough for irritation to ignite again.

“For fuck sake!” Ludwig cursed as he turned.

The curse came out sharp, immediate, the sound of a man whose patience had been spent before the day even began.

“Ah… Kassandara,” he said as he slumped on his master’s chair. “What is it now?”

He dropped into the chair as it owed him comfort. The wood creaked softly under his weight, familiar, used. He let his head tilt back for a moment, staring at the ceiling as if asking it why.

In her hands, there was a basket, one full of letters, sealed and locked, and most annoyingly perfumed to hell and back.

The scent hit first, sweet, cloying, layered perfumes competing like an army. The basket looked harmless until one noticed the seals: wax stamps, ribbons, tiny locks, careful handwriting meant to look refined. Ludwig’s nose twitched, and he immediately regretted having lungs.

“You have more letters,” she said.

Kassandra’s expression held that faint, unhelpful amusement of someone enjoying another person’s suffering.

“Burn them, all of them. I don’t want to see another marriage proposal for the rest of my life.”

The words came out like an order delivered to a servant, except Ludwig meant it sincerely. He didn’t even glance at the basket as if looking at it might invite it to speak.

“You’d rather remain single? You’ll break many hearts.” Kassandra teased. Her tone was light, sing-song, and the tease had just enough bite to be irritating. She shifted the basket slightly, letters rustling like dead leaves.

“If it meant this would stop, I’m willing to become an Archmage,” Ludwig said.

He sounded utterly serious, and the absurdity of the solution only made it funnier to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment as if the thought of ninth-tier magic was simpler than the thought of another scented letter.

She frowned, as she didn’t understand the correlation between being a bachelor and being at the peak of all magic.

The frown was genuine confusion, and Ludwig didn’t bother explaining, because explaining required caring.

“One of them can’t be burnt, however,” she said.

The shift in her tone stripped away the teasing. Ludwig’s eyes opened again, attention snapping back.

“What is it?” he asked.

His voice sharpened with the knowledge that the Academy didn’t send “cannot be burnt” unless it was trouble.

“Imperial Letter…”

The words carried weight. Ludwig’s jaw tightened immediately.

“The hell does the empire want from me? I already told them I’m too busy, I can’t attend that ceremony.”

The irritation was immediate, familiar. He’d had enough eyes on him for a lifetime.

“Even if the first princess is the one requesting your presence?” Kassandra asked.